I’ll never forget sitting in the living room with a trusted friend and pastor during one of the most broken seasons of our marriage. Josh and I had hit a crisis point, and I was clinging to the pieces—our children, my friendships, my family, even my role as a daughter and mother—desperately trying to hold it all together.

Then came the words that felt almost offensive in their boldness.

“Your marriage has to be a ten. Every other relationship in your life has to be a two.”

A ten? Compared to a two? My heart wrestled with that. How could I possibly make my marriage the highest priority when I loved so many people deeply—our children most of all?

But slowly, through tears and honest work, I began to understand what he meant.

It wasn’t about neglecting our kids or walking away from the other relationships I cherished. It was about reordering our covenant. God had established from the beginning in Genesis that marriage was to be a “leave and cleave” relationship—a bond that supersedes all others.

And if we were serious about rebuilding our marriage, it would require radical reprioritization.

We started small:

• Choosing each other in daily decisions
• Speaking kindly when it would be easier to shut down
• Going to mentoring even when it was hard
• Scheduling time together before filling the calendar with kids’ activities
• Showing physical affection in the middle of chaotic days
• Reminding ourselves that we’re not just parenting partners—we’re covenant partners

At first, it felt unnatural. I had to actively choose to say no to some good things, even to my kids’ endless needs, so I could say yes to investing in our marriage. But something powerful happened: our children started to feel more secure, not less. They saw a unified team. They felt the strength of love that wasn’t just surviving but growing stronger.

And yes, it did start to feel like other relationships were at a two—not out of neglect, but because our devotion to each other became the foundation of everything else. The most loving thing I could do for my kids was to love their dad with everything I had.

So today, if you’re in a season where your marriage feels like it’s surviving on leftovers—on shared logistics and barely-there affection—I want to lovingly challenge you:

What would change if your marriage was a ten?

What would it look like to:

• Put your spouse first—even above the kids
• Protect your connection with time, attention, and joy
• Recommit to the covenant, not just the co-parenting

It’s not easy. But I promise you—it’s worth it.